


Shephard's Musings

by Oraeliaa



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Drabble, F/M, One Shot, Sexual Content, Short, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 09:58:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8573896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oraeliaa/pseuds/Oraeliaa
Summary: Just a very short one shot from the perspective of Jane Shephard





	

All things considered, Jane Shephard really hated this room. For the soldier, the trained killer who strikes fear in the heart of the galaxy, it was perfect. For the woman who utilised three different conditioners, had a hidden compartment in her desk for knitting; and who’s pinterest was chock full of hygge...it was not. She longed for a room where she could relax after what were often inexplicably long, stressful days. This...this was not that room.

It’s utilitarian theme reminded her of the many hospital rooms she had visited throughout the course of her life. The fishtank overlooking the bed was ludicrously ostentatious, and with each bout of turbulence she was reminded that it could smash at any moment; showering her with glass, a torrent of water, and a few dozen slowly dying companions should they run into a stray asteroid belt. She had her models, this was true; her small acceptable creative quirk within the hard persona she had painstakingly crafted; but they simply blended into the sea of grey and white glass, plastic and metal. Would a yellow scatter cushion array have killed them? 

Jane fondly looked back on the house she grew up in alongside her brother; which her mother would fill with as many knitted, woven and felted goods as she could make, all in natural fibres and shades. Looking back, they weren't the wealthiest; it was a farming community after all, but she missed the painstakingly handcrafted and repaired comfortable clothes and fabrications of her youth. Every house had a rustic and easy comfort, a stark contrast to incredibly dark, modern theme of her quarters. 

The one positive, within this 'obviously created by someone who didn't know her' room, was the turian lounging on her painfully scatter-cushion-free bed. It had begun as a way to let off steam, or at least that’s what she’d admit to anyone else. It definitely wasn't a thinly veiled opening for her to explore what had started as an interest and turned into infatuation. But there it was, and it was fantastic. Jane knew that it should have been Jacob in that bed, or possibly even Kaiden if he hadn't been such a cock when they were reunited; but she couldn't help the swell of happiness she felt whenever Garrus so much as looked her way with a smirk in the heat of battle. If her parents could see her now...well thinking back to her kindhearted farming parents; they probably actually wouldn't mind. She always remembered them being extraordinarily gentle people, they’d probably just fret over cooking something he could possibly eat, and laugh at his terrible jokes.

It was humour that first drew Jane to Garrus. His sarcastic nature matched her own, and lead to consistently easy jokes and conversation. They clicked, in a way she didn't often click with the soldiers around her. Then it was likely his work ethic. She valued people who took their work seriously, and his compelling, greenhorn enthusiasm and drive when they first met piqued her interest. His dedication to work afterwards, and time as archangel really shaped him as an individual in her eyes. The attraction came later, taking time to develop from an admiration of his dramatic visual differences from an evolutionary standpoint, to a more base enjoyment of his tall silhouette, small, tight ass and sharp jawline. His differences fascinated her in a way very different to other aliens she’d met during her time traveling the galaxy; and she had no doubt it was brought on by her enjoyment of the man himself. 

When they had finally “popped the heat sink” as he repetitively referred to it, she was overwhelmed by the amount of chemistry they had, given the underwhelming experiences she had had in the past with human men.

His confidence was probably the turning point. Whilst she had been with confident men in the past, she’d never found it warranted. They’d been strong, powerful men, who could lift her up and furiously have their way with her, and she’d always enjoyed it, but never felt truly satisfied. It would happen a few times and she’d call it off, refusing until they lost interest and moved onto another. “Workaholic” they’d begun to call her, “disappointed” was more the term in her eyes. 

Garrus on the other hand...It had been awkward at first, neither having strayed from their own species before and being woefully unprepared, armed with a brief Fornax and porn inspired knowledge of each other’s anatomy. She was found to be oddly soft, with Garrus repeatedly worrying about piercing her flesh with his talons if he was too rough; and her thighs were the constant reminder for the next week to use a medigel lube from the start unless you wanted to thighs that resembled an Englishman’s sunburn.

Once they’d found their rhythm though, it was the epitome of perfection. He was smaller than she had been expecting for his height, but that was more of a relief as she found she could take him entirely without discomfort, only the blissful feeling of being full, and gently stretched. Her difference in shape and feel from a turian woman fascinated him, and lead to the best foreplay of her life whilst he tasted, stroked and massaged every inch of her. “You’re so soft” he breathed endlessly. “How can such a soft person fight so hard, you’ve no armour, no natural weaponry at all, it’s pathetic really Shephard” was her favourite quote of the evening, which she proved entirely wrong later by allowing her teeth to graze his cock gently. The amusement and fear in his eyes as he looked down at her had him taking it all back, accepting that she was a fierce warrior.

They didn't come together, but she’d never been one for that romantic crap in the bedroom-staring into each other’s eyes as you become one. Instead she found herself feeling entirely boneless, grasping at the annoyingly bare pillows beneath her head as he came, shuddering and straining to hold himself up; one hand splayed next to her auburn hair and the other holding the headboard for support. 

But that was before, and as she padded gently across the floor she couldn't help the soft smile appearing on her face as he reached out for her, mandibles widening in happiness as he visibly held back his exhaustion. 

“The fearsome warrior returns...”


End file.
